The thunk of a plastic bat followed each pitch and question Tasha H. lobbed toward her 14-year-old son. She cheered after each hit as she tracked down the whiffle ball and prepared her next throw. 

“Maybe baseball next year?” 

No, he responded before hitting the ball over his mom’s head. He plans to try out for varsity football instead.

“You’re getting a lot better than you give yourself credit for,” Tasha told him.

Standing in a patch of green grass in late June, working to extract more than one-word answers from her son, Tasha looked like a typical mom of a soon-to-be high schooler. But as the ball landed on the wrong side of a chain rope fence, it was clear they were not standing in a backyard or baseball field. 

“I can’t go get that,” she said. 

The fence stood only about 2 feet high. But Tasha could not cross it or the much taller, barbed fence bordering Taycheedah Correctional Institution in Fond du Lac — not for at least another year. 

The brief batting practice was part of Camp Reunite, a program for children with incarcerated parents. Before camp, Tasha had not seen her son in the year since she was arrested for crimes she committed related to a drug relapse.

WPR and Wisconsin Watch are withholding the last names of parents or kids included in the story at the request of Camp Reunite to protect the campers’ privacy.

One of the first things Tasha noticed about her son was that he’s taller than her now. 

“Then he spoke and it was like a man, and I was appalled,” Tasha said. “I know that sounds crazy, but I just want to be there as much as I can, even though I’m in here.”

They both needed the visit, she said. 

Maintaining relationships between children and incarcerated parents helps mitigate the negative impacts of the separation, experts say. Family visits have been shown to reduce recidivism. 

Camp Reunite allows children to spend a week at a traditional summer camp where they can hike, canoe and participate in trauma-informed programming like art therapy. Two days out of the week, campers get to spend an entire day with their incarcerated parents in a more relaxed setting than typical visits.

Despite the camp’s success for parents and their kids, it remains unique to Wisconsin and has operated in just two prisons this summer: the women’s prison at Taycheedah and Kettle Moraine, a nearby men’s facility.

Public opinion is the camp’s biggest obstacle, said Chloe Blish, the camp’s mental wellness director. Prison and camp staff described hearing and reading concerns over the perception that the program is a safety risk — and that it rewards incarcerated parents. 

Past media coverage of the camp has prompted online backlash against named parents — personal attacks that older campers can read and absorb, Blish said.

She wishes skeptics could experience a day at Camp Reunite, she said. “It’s electric.”

Tasha and her son started their reunion playing the board game Sorry!

“I miss you,” she said before moving her pawn 10 spaces and asking if he signed up to attend the winter camp. 

He nodded before knocking her piece back to the start, softly telling his mom “sorry.”

Between turns and debates about the rules, she asked about school, football, friends, food at camp and where he got his shoes. He reminded her that she bought them for him. She told him he needed to clean them with an old toothbrush, which led to a short lecture about how often he should replace his toothbrush. 

He asked her why she didn’t spend extra money to get Nikes with her prison uniform, a gray T-shirt and teal scrub pants. They joked about her all-white Reebok sneakers.

“I’m glad you came,” she said. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

Not like other camps

When Taycheedah social worker Rachel Fryda-Gehde heard officials were trying to host a camp at the prison, her first reaction was: “Nobody’s ever going to entertain such a crazy idea.”

This summer, she helped run the prison’s eighth season. 

She and other camp leaders plan to present on the program’s success at national conferences this fall, she said. They want to see the camp grow, but there are barriers, including public perception.

The nonprofit Hometown Heroes runs the camp in coordination with the Wisconsin Department of Corrections.

Camp Hometown Heroes started as a summer camp for children whose parents died after serving in the military. The camp paid to fly Blish and her sister from California to Wisconsin during summers when they were teenagers.

She still loves Hometown Heroes, but Camp Reunite has more impact, she said.

“There’s a lot of camps for gold star kids, that’s easy support,” Blish said. Things are different at Camp Reunite.

She and other camp leaders often work in the kitchen, filling in to wash dishes during Camp Reunite. During Hometown Heroes, that’s never necessary, because so many community members volunteer to help, she said. 

Hometown Heroes, an exponentially larger operation, also receives more individual donations because of people who have a passion for helping veterans and military families, wrote Liz Braatz, the camp’s director of development. 

She has heard the stigma around supporting people in prison, she wrote in an email. But discussing the camp as a way to help children affected by trauma “has made all the difference” in reshaping perceptions, she said. 

Outside of camp, the organization provides campers with new clothing, school supplies and hygiene products. 

“It does not matter who your God is or who you vote for, if your passion is helping these kids,” Braatz wrote. 

The camp is in conversation with Racine Correctional Institution and now has plans to expand its program next summer. 

The Wisconsin Department of Corrections would welcome Camp Reunite in additional facilities, spokesperson Beth Hardtke said. 

Barriers stifle attendance 

The camp faces additional obstacles in expanding its service. 

This summer’s camp at Taycheedah was far from capacity. There were enough camp staff for more than 100 kids, Blish said. But just over a dozen families showed up. 

“We started out with a lot more,” Fryda-Gehde said. 

There are two major requirements for moms to join the camp: no sex crime convictions and no major conduct issues in the six months leading up to camp. This year’s attendance shrank after women were placed into segregation cells after breaking prison rules.

Prison social workers spend months with the moms to prepare for camp. Moms create posters to decorate their campers’ bunk beds, while prison staff set up activity stations like a beauty parlor and photo booth in the visiting room.

But the biggest reason for lower attendance: getting some caregivers on board. 

Some kids might not be ready to visit with their incarcerated parents, Blish said. Other times, caretakers are hesitant to allow them in a prison or struggle to get them there. 

Women are more likely than men to be the primary caretakers for their children at the time of arrest. That often leads to major life disruptions for campers visiting the women’s prison who are more likely to live with foster placements or more distant relatives. 

Even caretakers comfortable with the camp might struggle to get there. Many families lack cars, Blish said. The camp tries to arrange rides for as many kids as possible, but it can’t always pick up kids who live farther away. 

‘You’re here to have fun’

Nyzaiah and his three younger siblings live with their grandparents in Milwaukee. Camp was the first time they’ve made the more than hourlong drive to visit their mom since she was incarcerated. 

“I was trying not to cry because I don’t like really showing my emotions to people, but I did drop a tear,” he said. “Me and my mom are really close.”

They talk on the phone around four times a week, but seeing her in person felt different, he said. 

Most of his classmates get picked up by their parents. Only his close friends know why his grandparents pick him up each day.

“At home, I’m big brother. I gotta do everything and make sure it’s good. I don’t like to bring a lot of stress on my grandma,” the 13-year-old said. 

But at camp, his brothers and sister are in separate cabins. 

“The counselors told me, ‘You’re here to have fun. Don’t worry about your siblings. We’ve got them,’” he said. 

Glitter, braids and tearful goodbyes 

Moms aren’t the only ones asking questions at camp. 

“You’ve got a TV?” asked Deloise L.’s 11-year-old son.

“Of course,” she answered. The morning before camp she woke up early from excitement and watched the morning news while she waited. 

Deloise’s children are staying with her sister who brings them for somewhat regular visits throughout the year. But camp is different.

“I love this,” she said. 

During a normal visit, her family is under the supervision of correctional officers, and her movement is more limited. At camp, most of the prison staff present are social workers. Moms walk from activity to activity without asking permission, including to the camp’s crowded “salon.”

Deloise clipped hot pink braids into her teenage daughter’s hair and applied glittery makeup over her eyes. Her son picked out a fake mustache.

As counselors warned that there were 10 minutes left until they would bus back to camp, kids scrambled to get close to their moms. Even the knowledge that they would be back later that week failed to stop the tears.

“When you got to separate from them, that’s when it gets bad,” Deloise said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “It just gets bad when you want to be around your kids.”

This is her family’s second camp. They plan to attend one more summer camp before her release in 2026.

“I’m learning from my mistakes,” she said. “They won’t have to worry about this again.”

Wisconsin Watch is a nonprofit, nonpartisan newsroom. Subscribe to our newsletters for original stories and our Friday news roundup.

‘I did drop a tear’: Camp Reunite helps kids connect with their incarcerated parents is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

A unique camp offers welcoming space for Wisconsin prisoners to spend time
with their children, but stigma and other barriers limit its reach.

The post ‘I did drop a tear’: Camp Reunite helps kids connect with their incarcerated parents appeared first on WPR.

A state board heard directly on Friday from two Wisconsin brothers who served more than two decades in prison for a murder they didn't commit. David and Robert Bintz are asking for over $2 million each as compensation for their wrongful convictions.

The post Claims board hears from Green Bay brothers who spent decades in prison for murder they didn’t commit appeared first on WPR.

Responding to staffing shortages that imperiled guards and staff, Wisconsin lawmakers in 2023 significantly increased pay for corrections officers — hoping to retain and attract more workers to the grueling job. 

It helped, at least initially. But following significant progress, staffing vacancies are again growing in many Wisconsin prisons. The data support a common complaint from correctional officers and their supporters: The Department of Corrections and the Legislature must do more to retain officers in the long run. Improving training, safety and workplace culture would help, they say. 

Meanwhile, some Democratic lawmakers, prisoner rights advocates and correctional officers argue that reducing the prison population would improve conditions for inmates and staff by reducing overcrowding and easing tensions. 

The two-year budget Gov. Tony Evers signed last week included a small boost in funding for programs geared at limiting recidivism and additional funding to plan the closure of one of Wisconsin’s oldest prisons. But Republicans removed broader Evers proposals that focused on rehabilitating prisoners, and a plan to close Green Bay’s 127-year-old prison includes few details.

“Reducing the number of people we incarcerate in Wisconsin is critical, both because of the harm that mass incarceration does to individuals and communities, and because of the resulting stress from overburdening prison staff,” Rep. Ryan Clancy, D-Milwaukee, told Wisconsin Watch. “Packing more people into our prisons leads to worse services and worse outcomes when incarcerated folks are released back into the community.” 

Wisconsin Watch and The New York Times last year detailed how Wisconsin officials for nearly a decade failed to take significant steps to slow a hemorrhaging of corrections officers that slowed basic operations to a crawl. During that period prisoners escaped, staff overtime pay soared and lockdowns kept prisoners from exercise, fresh air and educational programming, leading some to routinely threaten suicide.  

At Waupun Correctional Institution, staffing vacancies peaked at 56% in February 2024, leaving more positions open than filled.

As aging staff members retired, the state struggled to replace them, particularly after Act 10, a sweeping 2011 state law that gutted most public workers’ ability to collectively bargain for more attractive conditions. Vacancy rates steadily climbed to 43% in the state’s maximum-security prisons and 35% across all adult institutions before pay raises took effect in October 2023.

Following two years of partisan infighting, the Republican-led Legislature approved a compensation package that increased starting pay for corrections officers from $20.29 to $33 an hour, with a $5 add-on for staff at maximum-security prisons and facilities with vacancy rates above 40% for six months straight. 

Within a year, vacancy rates plunged as low as 15% at maximum-security prisons and 11% across all adult prisons.

Rep. Mark Born, a Beaver Dam Republican who co-chairs the Legislature’s budget-writing Joint Finance Committee, credited legislative action with greatly reducing staffing shortages.  

“As I’ve talked to the prisons in my district, they’re happy to see that the recruit classes are much larger and the vacancies are about half of what they were prior to the action in the last budget,” he told Wisconsin Watch. 

Vacancies rise following initial progress

It’s true that vacancies are nowhere near their previous crisis levels. Those include rates in Waupun and Green Bay, where officials previously locked down prisoners during severe staffing shortages. Green Bay now has just over half the vacancy rate it had during the height of the crisis. Waupun has recovered even more dramatically. After plunging much of last year, its vacancy rate has hovered near 20% in recent months.

But vacancies are increasing across much of the prison system, corrections data show. As of July 1, rates reached 26% at maximum-security prisons and more than 17% overall. The department has lost more than 260 full-time equivalent officer and sergeant positions over the past nine months. 

The vacancy rate at Columbia Correctional Institution in Portage, which has the most gaping staffing shortage, reached 41% on July 1, up from a low of 11% a year ago. 

Push to close Green Bay prison

The new state budget appropriated $15 million “to develop preliminary plans and specifications” to realign the Department of Corrections and eventually close the Green Bay prison, whose vacancy rate has grown from a low of 9% last October to nearly 25%.

Republicans proposed closing the prison by 2029, but Evers used his veto power to remove that date, saying he objected to setting a closure date “while providing virtually no real, meaningful, or concrete plan to do so.” 

How a future prison closure would shape long-term population trends may hinge on what replaces the prison. Evers earlier this year proposed a $500 million overhaul to, among other provisions, close the Green Bay prison; renovate the Waupun prison — adding a “vocational village” to expand workforce training; and convert the scandal-plagued Lincoln Hills and Copper Lake youth prison into an adult facility.

Republicans rejected that more ambitious proposal in crafting the bill that became law. 

Closing the Green Bay prison without replacing its capacity might reduce the prison population — and ease staffing shortages, Clancy argues. With less space to put those convicted of crimes, judges might issue shorter sentences, he said. 

“Every time I’ve spoken with a criminal judge, I’ve asked if they are aware of the number of beds available when they sentence someone. They always are,” Clancy said. “And I ask if that knowledge impacts their sentencing decisions. It always does.”

But for now, corrections employees are supervising a rising number of prisoners. The state’s total prison population is up about 7% since the compensation boost took effect. Wisconsin now houses more than 23,400 prisoners in facilities built for about 17,700, with the state budget estimating that number to rise over the next two years.

The Department of Corrections did not respond to multiple requests for comment on staffing trends.

‘How much of your soul can you afford to lose?’

Multiple corrections officers called rising vacancies predictable as new officers, attracted by competitive starting wages, discovered the demands of the work.

“It doesn’t surprise me one bit,” said a former officer who recently left a job in Waupun. He requested anonymity to avoid jeopardizing future employment in law enforcement. “They put a Band-Aid on the problem. They lured people in, thinking they were going to make more money. But the reality is the job hasn’t changed.” 

Even before the raises, it was not uncommon for officers to make upwards of $100,000 as they banked overtime pay while being forced to cover for open shifts. That pay came at a steep cost to work-life balance, said Rich Asleson, a correctional officer between 1997 and 2022, most at the former Supermax facility in Boscobel.

“It’s not a matter of needing more money. It’s a matter of how much of your soul can you afford to lose?” Asleson said. 

Additionally, officers say they feel added risks — whether reprimands, lawsuits or even criminal charges — as news media increasingly scrutinize their actions. Multiple deaths of Waupun prisoners, for instance, resulted in rare criminal charges against the warden and eight other staff members. Officers say they get little support, with a larger focus on penalties and firings than reforming conditions.  

More predictable hours, improved training practices and restored union protections would make the work more attractive, officers said.

“It’s one thing to do a job where you’re getting paid and you’re miserable,” the former Waupun officer said. “But can you imagine doing a job and feeling like you’re not even backed up by Madison? There’s people that are getting into trouble because the powers that be are scared, too. (Leaders) think if they’re ever called to the carpet, they can point to all the people they terminated.”

The officer said veterans, fearing reprisals, are increasingly choosing posts that separate themselves from prisoners and riskier work. They are less willing to train incoming officers due to turnover — seeing that time as wasted if new officers won’t stay long, he added. 

The Department of Corrections should improve training and retention by pairing veteran officers with rookies on shifts to show them the ropes — designating training specialists, he said. 

Waupun mayor: Prison guards go unappreciated

Waupun Mayor Rohn Bishop blames news media for recruiting and retention challenges, saying coverage disproportionately scrutinizes officers without recognizing their difficult jobs. 

“I’m the mayor of a town with three prisons within its city limits. Any time an inmate dies all the TV trucks show up and reporters put microphones in my face,” Bishop said. “But when an officer gets killed or hurt for just doing their job, almost no media pay attention. And I think there’s a burnout because of that.”  

Compared to other front-line workers, correctional officers often go unseen and unthanked, Bishop said. 

“You see firefighters. You see nurses. You see cops. You see these other front-line workers. You don’t see correctional officers because they walk on the other side of the wall. And I just think we don’t appreciate them,” Bishop said. 

Improving conditions for prisoners would simultaneously benefit correctional officers by boosting morale across prisons. That includes expanding the Earned Release Program, which offers pathways for early release to eligible prisoners with substance abuse issues who complete treatment and training — with the potential to ease overcrowding.  Evers’ initial budget proposal included provisions that would have expanded eligibility for the Earned Release Program. The final budget included about $2 million to support programs to reduce recidivism and ease reentry.  

“There needs to be a reimagining of what corrections are,” said the former Waupun officer. “It would make it easier for the inmates and the officers.”

Asleson agreed. “You can’t keep people locked away forever,” he said. “I think it’s about hope on both sides of the fence. If nobody has hope, it shows.” 

Wisconsin Watch reporter Sreejita Patra contributed reporting.

Wisconsin Watch is a nonprofit, nonpartisan newsroom. Subscribe to our newsletters for original stories and our Friday news roundup.

‘Band-Aid on the problem’: Past raises haven’t fully solved Wisconsin prison staffing problems is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

For nearly two decades, Wisconsin Books to Prisoners has been sending new and used books to people behind bars. Now, the volunteer group is trying to restore its operations after the Wisconsin Department of Corrections imposed new restrictions.

The post Volunteers face delays as they work to resume sending used books to Wisconsin prisoners appeared first on WPR.

Alternatives to incarceration could drastically cut lock-up rate in Wisconsin. This week the Department of Corrections will finally take up a 2014 law that aimed to do just that. | Getty Images

The Wisconsin Department of Corrections (DOC) will hold a public hearing this week on Act 196, legislation that received bipartisan support and was signed into law in April 2014 by then-Gov. Scott Walker. The law aimed to create sanctions for people who violate the conditions of their parole, probation and extended supervision as an alternative to revocation, which sends people back to prison sometimes for small infractions that violate the terms of their release. The hearing on implementing a new rule, 11 years after the law was signed, will finally take place on Tuesday, July 8 at 10 a.m.

The public can join the virtual hearing by going to a DOC link and selecting the “hearing information” section. The text of the rule is also available online at the same hearing link.  

Act 196 states the intent to “Develop a system of short-term sanctions for violations of conditions of parole, probation, extended supervision, and deferred prosecution agreement (an agreement not to prosecute pending the accused meeting requirements such as drug treatment).”

A sentence for a criminal violation, besides fines and fees, typically includes a period of incarceration and supervision outside incarceration via parole, probation, or extended supervision.

If a condition of supervision, such as the requirement to remain sober or stay away from minors, is not meant, the probation officer has the option of requesting a revocation hearing before an administrative judge that could result in the person serving a portion or the remainder of the “supervised” sentence behind bars.

Act 196 states “short-term sanctions” should include “examples of high, medium and low level sanctions and what factors to consider when determining which level of sanction to apply.”

The law is not  just punitive. Act 196 also says the DOC is to determine “how to reward offenders for compliance with conditions of parole, of probation, of extended supervision or of the agreement (such as deferred prosecution).”

The 2014 law also states the DOC should “minimize the impact on the offender’s employment” and also minimize “the impact on an offender’s family.”

The 2014 law would appear to meet the stated goals of the DOC and Gov. Tony Evers to lower the revocation rate for Wisconsin that has resulted in thousands returning each year to prison.

WISDOM, a statewide network working on reform of the prison and criminal legal systems and other social justice issues, is pleased the DOC is finally taking steps to implement the 2014 law into a rule.

“Adding more short-term community-based alternatives to revocation has the potential to significantly reduce the number of people sent to prison each year,” said Mark Rice, Transformational Justice Campaign Coordinator for WISDOM, a statewide network working to overhaul the criminal legal system and other unjust systems.

“Sending people back to prison for convictionless rule violations is fueling the overcrowding of Wisconsin’s prisons,” said Rice.

Tom Gilbert, a father whose son has been incarcerated and had supervision revoked and returned to prison, has led WISDOM’s efforts to get the DOC to implement Act  196.

“It is way past time for Wisconsin to transform its supervision program of people who have been released from their original sentence,” said Gilbert. “Revoking people back to prison for rule violations is counter-productive. Other states have moved to better methods of supervision and are closing prisons.”

But WISDOM officials also have concerns that DOC will use current practices of sanctions, such as 90-day jail confinements, that WISDOM say don’t meet the intent of ACT 196 to “minimize” the impact on employment and the family.

Wisdom officials are also concerned the DOC has not fleshed out how to implement ACT 196 by describing the actual “system of short-term sanctions.” The proposed rule to be considered at the July 8 hearing merely replicates language stated in Act 196 without specifying the actual short-term sanctions or the rewards for meeting the conditions of supervision.

“If the Department of Corrections truly implements both the letter and spirit of Act 196, we see the potential transformation of its community corrections programs to one that focuses on healing individuals and communities affected by crime,” said Gilbert.

Joining the public hearing

Members of the public who are not able to join the hearing online can use a call-in number for the meeting: (608) 571-2209, with conference code 930 614 929.

Persons making oral presentations at the meeting are also required to submit their comments in writing.

Written comments are also taken until August 8. Written comments can be mailed to DOC Administrative Rule Committee, Caitlin Washburn, Administrative Rules Coordinator, PO Box 7925, Madison, WI 53707-7925.

Written comments can also be sent via email to: DOCAdministrativeRulesCommittee@wisconsin.gov or can be submitted on  the DOC’s website: https://doc.legis.wisconsin.gov/code

Update: This story was updated at 11:50 a.m. on Monday, July 7 to make requested edits to a quote by WISDOM’s Mark Rice.

As Wisconsin’s prison population climbs toward pre-pandemic levels, Senate Bill 153 seeks to expand alternatives to incarceration.

Wisconsin’s Treatment Alternatives and Diversion program was established in 2005 to provide counties with funding to create programs to divert adults with nonviolent criminal charges into community-based treatment for substance abuse. 

Senate Bill 153 would formally expand the scope of these programs to explicitly include individuals with mental health issues.

Access to more funding

While some counties, including Milwaukee, already provide some diversion options for individuals with mental health needs, Senate Bill 153 could allow Milwaukee County to access funding not currently available. 

“The Milwaukee County District Attorney’s Office has always supported the expansion of the Treatment Alternatives and Diversion program to include those individuals with severe and persistent mental health issues in addition to those with alcohol and drug dependency issues,” said Jeffrey Altenburg, Milwaukee County’s chief deputy district attorney.

He added that such an expansion would allow the district attorney’s office to focus most of its traditional prosecutorial resources on violent crime. 

Bipartisan support

State Sen. André Jacque, R-New Franken, who co-authored the bill, said that the legislation enjoys broad bipartisan support as well as backing from those who work inside the criminal justice system.

“Folks that I’ve talked to – whether it’s probation and parole, law enforcement more generally – these are folks that see that it works because you don’t see repeat involvement in the criminal justice system,” he said. 

“It is transformative and uplifting when you see the changes that people are able to make in their lives.”

Marshall Jones, currently incarcerated at Fox Lake Correctional Institution, hopes more lawmakers have that sort of mindset. 

“If politicians were more proactive in helping people in the system address the underlying issues they have, then more people will be in a position to experience lasting, genuine change,” Jones said.

Research shows that treating the underlying causes of criminal behavior helps individuals rebuild their lives after incarceration and prevents future offenses.

“Most people who have mental health issues are already running or hiding from a fear they have,” said Aaron Nicgorski, a patient at a Wisconsin Department of Health Services facility. 

“Providing treatment says ‘Hey, we understand you have an issue, here are some programs to get you on a path to a better future’ versus ‘Hey, we’re gonna put you in a cage to think about what you’ve done.’”

Diversion vs. incarceration

Over time, the criminal justice system has recognized that many people commit crimes because of economic or psychological factors rather than some sort of character flaw. 

Diversion – the process by which people get “diverted” into voluntary programs and away from formal prosecution – has been used to address these factors.

“The whole idea is to divert them from the traditional system and get them placed with, hopefully, programs that can break the cycle of any criminal behavior,” said Nick Sayner, co-founder and chief executive officer of JusticePoint, a Milwaukee-based nonprofit organization that provides diversion-related services among other criminal justice programs.

Breaking that cycle is better for the public’s safety as well as the safety of the person being diverted, said Mark Rice, coordinator for the Wisconsin Transformational Justice Campaign at WISDOM, a statewide faith-based organization.

It’s also much more cost-effective to treat people in communities rather than to incarcerate them, Rice added.

Incarceration is not an experience that lends itself to improving a person’s mental health, he said.

“One man attempted to commit suicide; several other men had to be put on suicide watch; others mutilated themselves,” said Rice, referring to his time in the special needs unit at the Milwaukee Secure Detention Facility. 

What’s next?

On May 8, the Senate Committee on Judiciary and Public Safety unanimously recommended Senate Bill 153 for passage. It is now awaiting scheduling for a vote by the full Senate.

People can track the bill’s progress on the Wisconsin Legislature’s website. 

Wisconsin lawmakers seek to expand alternatives to incarceration for people with mental illness is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

Editor’s note, May 27, 2025: The Access Corrections website was back online on May 26. Multiple people told WPR and Wisconsin Watch they could transfer funds to Wisconsin prisoners following the restoration.

The online system Wisconsin prisoners rely on to receive money from loved ones recently crashed, leaving them unable to pay for items like extra food and hygiene products. 

The Wisconsin Department of Corrections contracts a private company, Access Corrections, to allow people outside of prison to transfer funds to those inside. Those transfers occur through the company’s app, website, phone system, mail and in-person options. But multiple people told WPR and Wisconsin Watch they could not make deposits beginning this week. 

The Access Corrections website and app display nothing more than a white screen and the message: “Sorry, the service you’re looking for is currently unavailable.”

Those who dial an Access Corrections phone number hear a recorded message saying the company can’t take deposits online or over the phone and that it is working to resolve the issue. 

In-person deposits at locations throughout Wisconsin are also unavailable, according to an affiliate’s website. It is unclear whether physical mail deposits still work. 

Access Corrections operates deposit systems nationwide, the Wisconsin Department of Corrections says on its website. The company is part of Keefe Group, a conglomerate that includes ICSolutions, which runs a glitchy prison phone system that has left Wisconsin families disconnected in recent months. 

A Department of Corrections spokesperson said she was working on a response, which did not arrive by this story’s deadline. 

The Keefe Group did not respond to multiple requests for comment. 

Robin Guenterberg typically sends his daughter at Taycheedah Correctional Institution $300 a month, with Access Corrections collecting a fee. 

His daughter, who he requested not be publicly named, uses most of that money to buy items  from the prison’s commissary. She has a chronic health condition and relies on commissary chicken and tuna packets to supplement regularly provided meals, Guenterberg said. 

The daughter has lost more than 20 pounds since entering prison late last year, Guenterberg said, adding that he and his wife purchase vending machine items during visits and make additional deposits to help their daughter maintain a healthy weight. 

If Access Corrections fails to quickly restart deposits, she may lack funds to place a commissary order for next week, Guenterberg said.

Sarah Liebzeit successfully added funds to her incarcerated son’s account late Monday night. But issues with his prison-provided electronic tablet have prevented him from spending it at Stanley Correctional Institution, she said.

“This is now another issue because the tablets have been just horrible,” Liebzeit said. 

Some incarcerated people work low-wage jobs inside their prison. Their pay falls short of covering phone calls, extra food, hygiene products and medical co-pays without outside deposits, multiple family members told WPR and Wisconsin Watch. 

Nicole Johnson said her incarcerated boyfriend earns $20 every two weeks at his Dodge Correctional Institution job. Wisconsin’s typical copay charge of $7.50 per face-to-face medical visit is among the highest in the country — more than half of his weekly earnings. 

Johnson said she tries to add $50 to her boyfriend’s account twice a month so he can purchase rice and beans to supplement regularly provided meals. 

“It’s just how I take care of him right now,” she said.

The Access Corrections crash, she added, “makes me sad because I don’t want him to be hungry all freaking week.”

Wisconsin Watch is a nonprofit, nonpartisan newsroom. Subscribe to our newsletters for original stories and our Friday news roundup.

Vendor failure means Wisconsin prisoners can’t buy food or other items is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

Wisconsin Watch partners with Gigafact to produce fact briefs — bite-sized fact checks of trending claims. Read our methodology to learn how we check claims.

Yes.

As of May 21, all Milwaukee County teens who are the responsibility of the county and held in Wisconsin’s youth prisons were Black or Hispanic.

There were 28 teens (96.4% Black) under “non-serious juvenile offender” court orders.

That includes teens age 17 and under sentenced to the state-run Lincoln Hills or Copper Lake schools – where costs approach $500,000 per year per youth – or the Mendota mental health facility.

Milwaukee County official Kelly Pethke said the county pays for non-serious juvenile offenders; the state pays for juveniles who are sentenced for more serious felonies. Pethke said in early May there were 35 Milwaukee County teens under serious orders, but she didn’t have a racial breakdown. 

The Wisconsin Department of Corrections said May 22 it tracks racial data by region. Nine of 66 youths (13.6%) in the southeast region were white.

Researcher Monique Liston cited the racial disparity in a social media post.

This fact brief is responsive to conversations such as this one.

Sources

• Milwaukee County: Youth In Our Care Dashboard May 21, 2025
• Milwaukee County: Youth In Our Care Dashboard
• Wisconsin Watch: One child, $463,000 per year: Ballooning costs of troubled Lincoln Hills youth prison
• LinkedIn: Monique Liston post
• Wisconsin Department of Corrections: Email

In May 2025, were all Milwaukee County teens under county authority in youth prisons Black or Hispanic? is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.